A dog grows older

We got Maggie the year my father died. Our first lab, Sophie, was already old by then and Jane could see I wasn’t coping with my dad coming to the end. Having my dog, who spent most days sleeping at my feet while I worked, go in the same year would be a bit tough.

So Maggie joined the family.

She’s not at all like old Soph’. She’s nuts, if you must know. But we love her. I’ve been dreading the day we first notice her age, and that day has come. She went to the park on the weekend and… did I mention she’s nuts?

She did not behave like a lady of a certain age. She tore that place up like a fucking berserker. Now though, she’s moving slowly and very carefully. She had trouble lifting her head the day after. And she’s just… getting old, I guess.

We’ll start the fish oil tablets soon, to lubricate her joints. A year or two after that she might end up on doggy drugs, like Sophie. I don’t see her lasting as long as Soph’ though. We kept her around way past her time. I dont want make that mistake again.

But it’s hard to know when, isn’t it.